


No Honor Among Thieves

by rubix



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Dirty Talk, Facials, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Marking, Resolved Sexual Tension, shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:22:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubix/pseuds/rubix
Summary: "Why are you here?" he asks, accusation dripping thick off the tip of his tongue.Haizaki doesn't answer but clicks his tongue off the roof of his mouth, peels off his Fukuda jacket and tosses that over his gym bag. There's a knot of anxious suspicion winding tight in Kise's gut and he's not sure why the sight of Haizaki bruised and bloody gets his pulse racing and his skin hot, but he likes it."Yer legs are fucked up, aren't they?" Haizaki asks, amusement dancing on his face. "Kise Ryōta, Generation of Miracles'golden boywith yer perfect copy and model looks — in the end you're nothing but human, stupid."Kise lingers in the locker room to conceal just how bad his legs are after the game with Seirin. To add insult to injury, Haizaki shows up to gloat.





	No Honor Among Thieves

No Honor Among Thieves

* * *

 

 

It isn't long after everyone has cleared out of the locker rooms and stadium that Kise thinks it’s safe enough to stand up. He's shaky on his feet still, the muscles in his calves continue to pull taut and liquefy, spasm on top of spasm and he hadn't trusted himself to remain upright. It wouldn't have mattered, no one would have minded; after all, he just played one hell of a game despite the loss they suffered. And with the adrenaline still stoking fire hot embers into his blood, he barely feels an ounce of pain.

His knees lock when he stands up, and he falters, has to throw out an arm against the lockers to catch himself from falling. It's almost enough to be furious over; he can't help the anger that burns in his chest with the inclination of culpability, that this is all _Shōgo's_ fault, if he hadn't crushed his foot then maybe he would've made it into the finals; but his heart is pulsing too rapidly to remain livid or accusing, not when he has the victory against him or the satisfaction that he did his very best in the game against Seirin still racing through his veins.

It's when he's about to try taking another step that Kise hears the scuffle and squeak of rubber soles on the clean linoleum floor. He looks up between the fringe of his hair to see a mysterious silhouette in the doorway of the locker room. Kise is confused. No one is supposed to be here, save for maybe a janitor or two but the tall and broad shape of the intruder is no janitor nor is it one of his teammates. He's pretty certain of who it is, especially if the menacing aura that suddenly snuffs out the breathable oxygen in the room is anything to go by.

"Shōgo-kun," Kise chirps, pushing himself back with the use of his fist pressed against the metal. His muscles cramp then, and he forces himself down on his heels, biting his lip through the pain jolting up his calves and branching out into his spine. He tries not to hiss, tries not to make a show of being affected by the previous games' casualties. Haizaki is leaning against the doorframe with his bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes are narrowed, forehead creased in a natural scowl that is meant to be fierce but all Kise sees is failure.

Haizaki steps out of the shadow of the doorway, and Kise can feel his mouth drop open in surprise when his eyes settle in on the angry welt taking up half of the other's face. His lip is cracked and bleeding, or was, but it's dried maroon and flaked against his chin and Kise can now see the shadow of soft purple under Haizaki's eye.

"What happened to you?" Kise hears himself gasp, sounding more concerned than he ought to be.

"None of yer fuckin' business," Haizaki grates, throwing his bag down onto the bench. He doesn't sound like himself, he sounds tired and drawn out. "Why're you still here?"

Kise opens his mouth to answer with honesty, but recollection of the game and Haizaki being part _of_ the reason why Kise is confined to the locker room still keeps him from saying so. "Why are _you_ here?" he asks instead, accusation dripping thick off the tip of his tongue.

Haizaki doesn't answer but clicks his tongue off the roof of his mouth, peels off his Fukuda jacket and tosses that over his gym bag. There's a knot of anxious suspicion winding tight in Kise's gut and he's not sure why the sight of Haizaki bruised and bloody gets his pulse racing and his skin hot, but he likes it.

"Yer legs are fucked up, aren't they?" Haizaki asks, amusement dancing on his face. "Kise Ryōta, Generation of Miracles' _golden_ boy with yer perfect copy and model looks — in the end you're nothing but human, stupid."

"I never said anything about not being human," Kise scoffs, folding his arms across his chest and falling back against the lockers for support. His legs are going to give out soon, and if he can't figure out what Haizaki's motives are, things aren't going to go well. "But I know what I'm good at, and I know now that I'm better than you."

"Paid a hefty price for that stupid title, idiot," sneers Haizaki as he flops down on the bench.

Kise ignores the bait, exhales a tired sigh when he asks, "What do you want, Shōgo-kun?"

Haizaki tips his chin up, and he looks almost thoughtful for a moment, the shadows behind his eyes shifting. "You ain’t better than me, Ryōta. Without yer teammates, you're nothing. You guys had a hard enough time against me _alone_ —"

"Shut up. You treated your teammates like trash," Kise snaps. "I am better than you, in every sense — why are you so obsessed with beating me? Are you so unoriginal that you have to come here and steal my victory as well? Or maybe that isn't enough, and you have to take my pride too? That isn't gonna happen, Shōgo-kun. People like you... I don't even think twice about." He can see the grey of Haizaki's eyes freeze cold like ice, narrow slits like they're some kind of sharp lethal weapons all on their own.

"Fuck you!" he shouts, springing to his feet. Kise sees the fist coming and it's too quick to move out of line but slow enough that Kise can roll his head against the locker out of harm's way. Haizaki's fist crumples the thin metal beside Kise's ear. It makes his blood rush, resounding loud and pounding in his ears, and he can't help but jump from the sound Haizaki's other hand makes when it slams into the locker beside his head and cages him in. "You think you're so much better than me, Ryōta, but you ain’t. You're _nothing_."

"What is the point of all this," Kise asks with a laugh. "Haven't you learned your lesson? How many times do you need to get beat before you learn some humility?" Haizaki's face is inches away and at this distance, Kise can feel the other's breath hit his skin; can see the mercury-like shine to eyes and the loose silver hairs fraying from his braids. Kise's eyes are drawn to the blood at the corner of Haizaki's mouth and for a second he has an urge to see what true defeat tastes like. His head moves before his mind has a chance to catch up and he's smashing a kiss to Haizaki's already swollen lips without much thought to consequence.

To his surprise, Haizaki pushes back, lays heavy pressure against Kise's lips until Kise's mouth feels like it's on fire from the friction. He can feel himself slide down an inch or two, his legs determined to give way anytime soon so on instinct Kise reaches for Haizaki's hip, crushes his fingers into the bone as Haizaki drags on his bottom lip, and brings him in closer to slot his knee between the other's legs. He's not really focusing on what is actually going on here, he's just allowing intuition to take the reins, to let his adrenaline-thick blood rush to his head and steer the course of what is likely to be the most perilous and ingenious mistake he's ever made. When Haizaki gasps a breath, Kise takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into the warmth of the other's mouth. He tastes strangely like green apple bubble gum, but underneath he tastes the tang of metal, sharp like the presence of blood is fresh in his mouth. Haizaki slides his tongue against Kise's like he's done this a million times.

Kise can feel the shape of the other's length hot against his knee when he grinds against it and Haizaki growls some sort of protest, but it's lost on the burn of the other's tongue against his own. He isn't sure what to do next, Kise hasn't thought that far ahead. Hasn't thought what this means, but the anger and guilt and pain he's been suppressing up to this point now has an outlet and Kise is willing to take full advantage of that if Haizaki is the type to let him.

That's the one thing he and Haizaki have in common, isn't it? That they borrow and steal from others to make themselves better, and it's Haizaki's turn to return the favour.

Kise slips the hand at Haizaki's hip up underneath the sheer mesh of the other's jersey, feels the tremor riding up Haizaki's spine underneath his fingertips before curling them into fabric and yanking the other away from his mouth. He goes without much resistance and when Kise looks up he catches the confusion scrawled across Haizaki's face.

"What the fuck was that?" Haizaki hisses, panting as he lashes his tongue across the spit-sheen of his lips.

"Don't pretend like you weren't into it," Kise baits, cloyingly rich and saccharine. "You know, I've been thinking, Shōgo-kun— "

"That must've been difficult for you," Haizaki snorts, blatant disregard for the former statement. It's fine, he doesn't have to agree for Kise to have come to his conclusion.

"I've been thinking," Kise repeats, losing the ability to control the wicked smirk he can feel tugging hard at his mouth. "All this time, it isn't that you wanted to beat me at anything, is it? In fact, all this time, everything you've done up to now is because you want _me,_ isn't that right, Shōgo-kun?"

Haizaki jolts back in a burst and maniacal laughter erupts from his throat. It's forced, Kise can tell, as he himself has always been good at acting. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Ryōta."

"Is it though?" asks Kise as he reaches behind Haizaki's neck and curls a finger around a braid. "You all but gave up your position to me on the team, you stole several of my girlfriends — you might as well have been crying out _'notice me'._ "

Haizaki laugh cuts through Kise like it's made of glass but he doesn't pull away when Kise drags his finger down the back of his neck. "I didn't give you my position, you took it from me and I _stole_ your girlfriends because I was better than you —"

"They were _easy,_ Shōgo-kun. That's why you took them. You don't ever steal anything you have to work for, isn't that right?"

Haizaki doesn't answer this time, which only edges Kise further. He gets even closer, can see the other's pupils blow wide, shadowing the clear steel until his irises are nothing but smouldering rings. Kise can brush his lips against Haizaki's if he wanted, but watching them press thin with a lack of a response is much more entertaining for the moment.

"You wanted my attention," Kise says, pressing himself against the other until they're completely flush, and Kise is using the other's weight for support. "Well... you have it now. What do you plan on doing with it?"

The next moment drags on for what feels like an eternity, but with a heavy sigh of resignation, Haizaki crushes a kiss to Kise's lips that tastes like relief and desperation all at once. At this point Kise doesn't bother with teasing, this entire conversation has been foreplay to him. He pulls on the hem of Haizaki's jersey and lifts, lets his fingers graze along the warmth of the other's skin. They have to break apart for a quick second so that the jersey can come up over the Haizaki’s arms and it catches in his hair before Kise discards it on the floor. Haizaki's breath is coming faster; he's falling in quick, like Kise is a magnet and he can't fight the pull. He doesn't protest when Kise slides a hand down his shorts, but he chokes on a gasp when Kise wraps a hand around his cock and begins to stroke.

Kise moves fast but it's the rush of heat swelling in his head that makes him feel dizzy and drunk. Haizaki's hand fits between the waistband of his shorts, and Kise takes a deep breath like that'll be enough for salvation. He falls in sync with Kise's strokes, drags liquid heat down the side of Kise's neck.

" _Ah_ ," Kise blurts when Haizaki sinks his teeth into the knot of muscle in his shoulder. It's enough to momentarily slip when Haizaki closes his mouth around Kise's collarbone, starts sucking purple to the surface of Kise's skin. "Don't leave marks," he warns but Haizaki doesn't listen. He can feel the pain of bruised skin and the sting of teeth marks already forming angry crescents at the base of his neck. It makes him shudder and forget what he's doing for a moment.

"I want everyone to see," Haizaki growls and if there was more to that statement, he doesn't bother voicing it. It doesn't matter anyway, the idea of people being able to see his perfect skin marred by a mistake makes Kise's blood roar with fire. So he lets Haizaki mark him while the other pumps hard at his cock. Haizaki is rough and inelegant, pulling hard against Kise's flesh with a calloused hand and again Kise can't focus on anything else but the echoing sound of clattering lockers and Haizaki's breath wet against his ear.

There's a flick of Haizaki's wrist, pressure from a thumb as it grazes over the tip of his cock and Kise can't stop himself from groaning as he rocks up as much as his legs will allow him so that he can fuck into the other's hand near effortlessly.

“ _Faster,_ ” he breathes, his fingers falling still around the other's length. Haizaki compiles, presses himself closer so that they're near shoulder to shoulder and Kise can feel the sweat beading on the other's brow. Kise gnashes at Haizaki's raw lip when he gets the chance, drags his fingernails deep enough to etch patterns in the other's skin.

“You're a fuckin’ slut,” snarls Haizaki. The words are cold like he means it but hot like he enjoys it. It sets Kise on fire, the word reverberating between his ears and down his spine like a lit fuse. He groans, grinds his knee against Haizaki’s cock.

“Tell me more,” he whines, struggling to stay on his feet and keep some semblance of clarity before he’s completely lost himself. Yet there would be no fun in that.

“ _Fuck,_ ” gasps Haizaki. His fingers close tighter around Kise's cock, each pull is quicker, fiercer.  

His vision starts to blur as his world feels like it’s been lit on fire. His senses electrify with each upstroke as even this slightest huff of breath from Haizaki short-circuits every last synapse until they snap and everything breaks. Kise comes with a keening whine, spilling hot over the other's hand. The force of his orgasm has him vibrating, so much so that his legs can no longer support his weight and Kise drops to his knees with Haizaki’s cock still in his hand. He refuses to let Haizaki see his defeat, so without skipping a beat, Kise slides his mouth over the other’s shaft. Had Haizaki noticed, he doesn’t say, but rather cards a sticky hand through Kise’s hair and tugs roughly at the crown.

Haizaki pushes at the base of his skull, driving his cock deeper until Kise can feel it hitting the back of his throat. He gags, tears burn the wells of his eyes and Haizaki laughs as he holds Kise’s head in place.

“Even now I have the upper hand, Ryōta. There ain’t nothin’ you can take from me.”

Saliva pools in his mouth as he tries to retort but the sound comes out muffled. Haizaki releases him as he pulls back and Kise gasps for air. “You have nothing I want,” he says breathlessly and pumps Haizaki’s cock, determined to finish what he started.

“Hm,”  Haizaki muses, swiping the drool from Kise’s lips. “You seemed to want my dick in yer mouth a second ago.”  

He isn’t wrong and Kise admits that in not so many words when he parts his lips and allows Haizaki to slip back in. He’s still blissed out, riding the high of release that the motion becomes automatic, even when he grazes his teeth along the other’s length and laps circles around his head.

His fingers dig into Kise’s jaw as he continues to guide him. “ _Fuck_ ,” he huffs, jamming his thumbs between Kise’s lips, stretching his mouth wider. “Better than any bitch I’ve had. You steal this too?”

Kise doesn’t acknowledge Haizaki’s question with a response, he’s too hazed from the heat coiling in the pit of his stomach, the hardening of his cock and the tremor that snakes up his spine. Too focused on the lewd image of himself, as if he were an outsider looking in, splayed out on his knees while Haizaki relentlessly fucks his mouth and saliva flows in rivers down his chin. It makes him curl his fingers around his cock and start to stroke. Haizaki’s breath comes faster and all the insults he had left to voice take the shape of lecherous groans. He is aware that Haizaki is close as his nails scrape against his scalp, pulling his hair so tight that he’s blinded momentarily by the pain. It only worsens when his head is slammed forcefully against the locker as Haizaki pulls out. Kise’s instincts tell him to keep his eyes shut and the first string of heat splatters across closed lips. Then, for some inexplicable reason, Kise opens his mouth and spurting beads land on his tongue as if they were fat drops of rain. He moans like he savours the taste. Haizaki makes a sound at this, perhaps even mutters some words, but Kise is too incoherent himself to make any sense of them. It only takes a second and picturing his debauchery for him to come once more, soiling the royal blue of his uniform.

Kise allows himself to slump against the lockers, his legs completely numb. Haizaki’s shadow is looming over him still, he can feel it; can hear him as he tries to catch his breath.

“Hn…” Haizaki hums with conceit. “You’re a filthy whore, Kise. Look at you.”

Kise doesn’t retort, doesn’t move at all, not even to wipe away the congealing mess sliding down his face. He keeps his eyes shut, even when Haizaki pushes himself off the locker. He doesn’t want to have to see the look of derision on the bastard’s face. It isn’t until Kise feels the force of a plush gym towel hit his chest that he opens his eyes and finds the energy to reply.  “So what does that say about you?”

Haizaki picks up his shirt off the floor, throws it over his head and puts on his jacket. He grabs for his bag, looks down at him and smirks. “Nothin’. You’re the one on yer knees... Took that pride from you after all," he jeers with a lick to his thumb.

Perhaps part of it was stolen in this moment, but it'll never be Haizaki's to keep. “I told you before. You can have all the girlfriends, all the titles you want. You’ll never be better, you'll never be me. You’ll never take my pride.”

He stops part way towards the exit and turns, his expression holding an emotion Kise cannot put a name to. “Even sitting there covered in fifth, you’d say that still?”

Kise looks over Haizaki, with his dishevelled hair and come-stained shorts, knowing that he’s left enough memories engraved on the other’s skin to never forget this moment. “Of course,” he scoffs and waits for the other to leave the locker room before hanging his head. He believes he is the victor, even as reality cruelly seeps in and he realises he’s still alone with no way of leaving here anytime soon. He licks salt off his lips and laughs bitterly to himself. “There really is no honor among thieves.”

 


End file.
